


Dragonborn

by Astlyr23



Series: Tamriel and Beyond [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, To Be Edited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 14:44:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astlyr23/pseuds/Astlyr23
Summary: The beginning of the Dragon Queen's story.





	Dragonborn

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome, this is the companion piece to "Dragon Queen". It tells the story of how Gwendolyn became the Dragon Queen. This part will follow the plot line of Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Don't forget to check out "Dragon Queen", they can be read in any order. More tags will be added as more characters are introduced.

The rocking and bumping are what pulls me from darkness, but it’s the throbbing pain in my head that threatens to put me right back there again. Bleary eyed and barely alert as figures begin to take shape.

“So, you finally awake then. Took a nasty hit recruit.” I squint to focus on the speaker. My eyes focus on a blond man. I think his name is Ralouf, from Riverwood. I merely groan in response.

“What happened?” I manage to croak out. Last thing I remembered was being at the border of Skyrim and Bruma.

“It was an ambush. Damn Imperials caught us at a checkpoint.” Now I remember, I was hit by the pomelle of a sword trying to run. Just thinking about the hit makes the area throb. I try to reach up, maybe use a healing spell, only to find my hands bound. Well shit. Ralouf continues to speak. “We are on the road to Helgen.”

There is a whimper next to me. I glance to my right. A man is trembling like a leaf. He isn’t wearing a Stormcloak cuirass so he can’t be one of us. Further down, what I now know is a horse cart, is Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. His hands are not only bound but he is gagged as well. Imperials don’t want to take any chances.

“Damn Stormcloaks, everything was fine until you showed up.” A voice hisses to my left. “The Imperials were nice and lax before you had to screw it up.”

“Watch your tongue, that Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak.” Snaps Ralouf. That shuts up the disgruntled man.

“Jarl Ulfric! But if he is here that must mean. Devine no.” He finally gets it, why we are going to Helgen.

“Pray to all of them, we may be meeting them soon.” Ralouf insists. I stay silent, when have the divines ever heard my prayers. The entire cart goes silent, no doubt the milk drinkers are screaming in their minds for some made up divines to save them. I cast my eyes down, anger swelling in my gut, anger at the injustice of the Legion. We only wanted a free Skyrim, the right to worship Talos, at least that’s what most adhere to. I only wanted to kill some Imperials and Elves.

The cart jerked to a halt, the gates of Helgen loomed above us. The wooden gates creaked open. Townes-people gather at the edge of the street, some jeering, others glaring silently at us, hate evident on their faces. The cart is maneuvered into the main square. One by one we drop down off the cart. An Imperial stand taking names, he steps in front of me.

“And who are you?” He asks. I glare at him.

“I am Gwendolyn.” I state.

“What is your last name so we can notify your next of kin.”

“I have none, it died at the hands of the Thalmor along with my mother and father.” I spit out with all the venom and hate I can.

“May you be reunited with them in Sovengard.” That is the last he says before turning to the female lieutenant, who motions for him to continue. I take notice of the executioner now, I feel cold. The Imperial starts to shout the names. “Lokir of Rorikstead.”

The horse thief, Lokir, if dragged from the line.

“No, I’m not one of them. Please.” He protests. His pleas fall on deaf ears, the Imperials do not care who they execute. Anyone who threatens their “peace” is dealt with. Lokir is forced to his knees. The executioner raises his axe swiftly bringing it down on Lokir’s neck. The body goes limp without its head. The head rolls a good two feet from the bloody stump.

“Gwendolyn.” I go still when my name is called. This is how it ends, not how I envisioned it, but I did manage to kill a few. I am roughly shoved to the block; someone jams a foot into the back of my knee to make me kneel. The stone is rough and wet with Lokir’s blood. A distant echo distracts me from the sensation.

“Archers!” A woman shouts. A try to glance where she is shouting at. Looks like a fellow Stormcloak tried to make a run for it. The echo is louder now. I flinch when the cold blade of the axe lightly presses against my neck. An ear-splitting roar shakes the very earth.

“What in Oblivion is that!” Someone shouts. An even greater shockwave followed by a gust of wind sends me tumbling from the block. A voice rumbles into the air, the words are foreign to me but stir something within me. I am grabbed by my shoulders.

“Get up prisoner.” I want to tear myself away from him, I almost do so but fire begins to rain down from the sky. I don’t think, I just react. The Imperial is running for cover under a partially destroyed home. I follow, no better option. The Imperial leads me up the stairs. The roof has been burned away; the smell of ash fills my nose.

“We’ll have to jump onto the next roof.” No way in oblivion am I jumping through a burning roof onto another equally burning roof with bound hands. I am about to yell that exact sentence at him when the roof starts to collapse. I jump without a second thought.

“What are you waiting for, Imperial, a list?” I taunt over the flames. Unfortunately, he makes it. He shoots me a smug smirk. The area outside this house’s threshold is no better than the one we left. For the first time since this whole nightmare began, I notice a shadow, a big one flying above Helgen. I stare at it openmouthed before Imperial pulls me along. He wedges us between a stone wall and a house, shielding us from view.

“Do you want to be burned to a crisp?” I can only guess what I look like to him, eyes wide, face pale with ash smeared on it.

“That was a dragon! They don’t exist anymore!” I point at the sky best I can. “Why is there a dragon?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Now keep low, if we are lucky, we should make it to the fortress.” I nod dumbly, following his lead and crouching. Just before I cross the expanse between two building a giant black maw appears in the path. A jet of fire sears the air around me. I swear I can hear words in the roar of the inferno. The scales are pitch black and shiny, a sense of foreboding a dread fill me. The maw pulls back, a gust of air and dust follow it departure. I sprint across the space left behind. My lungs burn from the exertion and the superheated air, I can feel burns on parts of my skin forming.

“Where to next Imperial?” I wheeze, the ash and smoke are making it difficult to breath.

“There the fortress, we should be safe there.” He points to the building, in front of which I was almost executed. Like an arrow he takes off for the front door, similarly I follow. As I run, I look around for any of my comrades, I see a few burned but none living. “Come on before we get roasted alive.”

I throw myself into the structure as the dragon comes in for another pass. The Imperial slams the door behind me. We both lie on the cool floor, trying to catch our breaths.

“As much as it pains me to say this, Thank you, Imperial.” The puffing man lets out a bark of laughter.

“My name is Hadvar.” I start to laugh along with him.

“Nice to meet you Hadvar, now how do we get out?”


End file.
